


True Light

by redeyedwrath



Series: Merthur Ficlets [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Campfires, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeyedwrath/pseuds/redeyedwrath
Summary: "Arthur wonders what it’d be like if Merlin was always like this, besides him, his body warm next to Arthur’s."In which, Merlin and Arthur are out on a hunting trip and Merlin is pretty





	True Light

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another Merthur thing!!! This one's a bit short, but I am working on quite a few longer fics so that's why :p I hope y'all like it regardless of its length ^^

_Love is the lifebreath of all I see_  
_Love is the truelight inside of me_  
_And I know you somehow_  
_As I hold you in my heart_

**— Internal Landscapes, Anathema**

 

—

 

It’s dark tonight. The light of the stars doesn’t reach this far into the forest, where they’re surrounded by trees and foliage and the low hooting of owls. Arthur almost feels more at home here, in the quiet and the wild, than in the castle itself.

He sighs, leaning back on his elbows. The pine needles prick at his skin even through his bedroll and the fine fabric of his sleeve. Merlin’s poking at the campfire with a branch, embers popping up every so often. They started the fire more for its light than its warmth — the end of the summer is nearing, but it’s still unbearably hot by day.

Arthur glances sideways. Merlin’s hair is stuck to his temples, plastered with sweat and grime that comes with being on the road. Merlin’s long fingers come up to rub at his nose, nails scraping over his skin before it lands next to him. Arthur wonders what it’d be like if Merlin was always like this, besides him, his body warm next to Arthur’s.

A blue eye peeks at him, so quick Arthur barely notices it. He jumps anyway. The fire crackles. Arthur looks back at it, cursing himself for allowing himself to look at Merlin for that long.

He folds his hands onto his stomach, his fingers threaded together as he stares at the dancing flames. They go from orange to yellow to orange again, a strangely hypnotic rhythm that casts shadows on everything around them.

Merlin moves, leaves crumbling as he shifts his weight. They’re so close together that Arthur can smell Merlin’s sweat, his body. He curls his fingers around his knuckles until he can’t any more — fingers trembling with the strain of clenching his hands together.

“What’s wrong?” Merlin asks, quiet, like he’s afraid to break the moment. Arthur just shrugs. The silences between them say more than their words. Their answers take so long to arrive that they aren’t really answers anymore.

Arthur thinks of the best excuse — he rubs a hand over his face, yawning loudly. He sits upright again so he can stretch. Merlin’s eyes bore a hole into the side of his face as he says, “Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“I could use a little rest myself,” Merlin says, wistful. Arthur punches him in the shoulder, hard enough to make Merlin pout, but soft enough that it doesn’t really hurt. The look in Merlin’s eyes is a mix of betrayal and something — something else.

“Ah yes,” Arthur says, trying to hide his smile and failing. “I’d almost forgotten how exhausting it is for you to do nothing but sit on a horse.”

Merlin drops the branch into the fire. It makes a popping noise at it catches on fire. Merlin’s voice is filled with mirth when he says, “I’m surprised you didn’t make us ride faster.”

“Why?”

Merlin sighs, turning to look at Arthur, eyes fierce. “I suppose I thought you were eager to return to Gwen.”

Ah, Guinevere. Arthur smiles at the thought of her. She’s certainly lovely, warm in both personality and body. But the pleasant feeling in his gut as he thinks of her isn’t the same as it used to be — where it was once crackling like the campfire, it is now a slow, pleasant simmering.

“I would’ve, a few months ago,” he says, contemplative, placing his hands on his knees. He can almost dream up the curve of her smile in the campfire, the reproachful glint in her eyes whenever he does something stupid.

“But…?” Merlin asks, trailing off into silence, eyebrows raised. Arthur snaps his eyes to Merlin’s, considering the soft light of the fire on Merlin’s face, the apprehension. He looks and looks and looks, until Merlin turns away, his cheeks a soft red.

“Not anymore,” he murmurs.

Merlin’s staring intently into the flames in order to distract himself — at least, that’s what Arthur presumes he’s doing. Merlin’s cheekbones stand out like this, almost glowing in the soft light of the flickering flames, his profile thrown into a sharp relief that has Arthur’s fingers clench and unclench in the grass.

He doesn’t even know he’s said Merlin’s name until Merlin turns to him, eyes wide and dark and blue, and Arthur flushes at once. He must’ve sounded hoarse, because Merlin’s looking at him in concern, his fingers drifting over until they touch Arthur’s bare forearm.

“Arthur?” Merlin asks after a while. The pads of his fingers curl around Arthur’s flesh until Merlin’s palm hits the fabric of his shirt. His hand is warm, so warm. Arthur glances up at Merlin from under his hair, swallowing when he sees Merlin’s dark gaze.

“I—” Arthur starts, then stops. His heart is pounding. He lets his fingers drift over until they land on top of Merlin’s, Merlin’s skin soft under his calloused digits. Merlin doesn’t pull away — instead, he squeezes Arthur’s forearm. “I love you.”

It’s silent. The owls are quiet. Arthur doesn’t breathe. Merlin shifts closer and Arthur flinches, braces himself for — for _something_ — but Merlin continues until their shoulders brush together, then he turns. Merlin’s nose at Arthur’s cheek, his chest against Arthur’s arm, hand still on Arthur’s arm, then drifting down until Merlin’s fingers curl around Arthur’s thumb.

“Arthur,” Merlin murmurs. His breath ghosts over Arthur’s neck and Arthur shivers with it, his stomach turning. Merlin’s nose skims over his cheek, once, twice, thrice. Arthur jumps when Merlin’s hand cups his jaw, turning his face until he has no choice but to look at Merlin’s face. “Arthur,” Merlin says, lips carefully forming the word. Arthur can’t stop staring. “I love you too.”

Merlin presses their mouths together, softly, just a peck. Arthur — Arthur’s body freezes, his lips tingling from the contact, and then Merlin draws back. They’re breathing each other’s air, so close, so warm, waiting. Arthur grabs the back of Merlin’s neck, tangling his fingers into the strands at the nape and pulls him in, moving his lips over Merlin’s.

Their foreheads bump together painfully and they both jump back, staring at each other with wide eyes. Merlin looks wild, breathing heavy, just waiting to see what Arthur does. Arthur smiles. Then Merlin smiles.

They dissolve into laughter at the same time, rubbing at their skin, cheeks warm with blood. Arthur, in an act of bravery, lets himself fall back and pulls at Merlin’s arm until he topples over, landing on Arthur’s chest. Merlin curls up close, catching his breath.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Arthur says. Merlin’s head is a warm weight on his chest, Merlin’s hand curled up next to his cheek. It rises up when Arthur breathes in, letting Arthur see the translucent curve of Merlin’s ear and the light of the campfire.

Merlin’s voice vibrates against his skin when he mumbles, “Me too.”

Arthur sighs, pulling him closer. They might not be able to stay here forever, but they can for tonight. And that’ll be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!!!! Please let me know what you thought?
> 
> [I have a Tumblr where I write Merlin Meta and also make Merthur gifsets that make people cry :p](http://nerdderek.tumblr.com)


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